Easily
by Fleeting Illicit Delicious
Summary: Short sweet and sappy. Mai goes shopping for the perfect dress.


Disclaimer: Kazuki Takahashi owns Yugioh, I'm just using his characters for a while.

A/N: This was inspired by looking for prom dresses and watching that movie 27 Dresses in the same day. It's another short, sweet, and sappy story maybe not love story.

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She doesn't fall in love easily.

The dresses lay meddled on the floor, in racks, on benches and she hasn't found one she likes yet. It's ironic, as she usually has such an enjoyable time shopping and trying on new things, but the whole process of finding a new dress is just annoying her already.

But it's not _just_a new dress.

It has all become rhythmic by now. Unzip, step in, squeeze in the tummy, pull up and hope it fits well. She stands on the little pedestal and looks in the mirror each time. She expects to see something she actually looks pretty in. Who she really sees is an impatient pouty woman in a clump of bubble wrap.

Dress shopping is not going well at all.

"The color is pretty but I hate the style."

"Couldn't they have made a better design on this one?"

"What do you think? Oh wait. The back has those awful seams." She complains to the weary shop attendant. The poor assistants then find another dress of differing style and color, only to have it blasted again by her picky tastes.

She supposes she could always cut or alter one (or even design herself one) but she holds out on that hope of finding the perfect dress.

Ah, yes. That hope is driving her mad.

Every night she goes to bed and dreams of dresses. She sees them whenever she closes her eyes. They always differ in design and like-ability but she always has the desire to try them on.

In her dreams she yells at the shop attendants, tells them to bring her more and more dresses. So much more than the shop even has in the first place (but then, it _is_ a dream). She tries them all on, walks about in them, spill things on them, tears and rips them to shreds of material only to have the shop attendants sew the pieces back together and create a new dress for her to try on. She never refuses a new dress (especially when it's pushed on her by the droopy eyed workers).

In her dreams the dresses pass her. She's walking through a forest of dresses, each one so beautiful, so magnificently painstakingly beautiful she can hardly bare to look at them. She runs to a clearing, she's beginning to suffocate in this stunning forest. But she can't escape them. The dresses dance for her in an imaginary wind in the clearing. They animate themselves to a soundless dance. She imagines herself dancing in one of those dresses, the material flowing about with the breeze. They're all beautiful, but she wants something more.

She wants to find that perfect dress to whip at the wind of her doubt. It's tranquil color erasing her fears, it's supple design making her beauty stand out more than her faults.

She wants _that_ for herself as she stares at those dresses. She knows it's a ridiculous thing to expect from a few pieces of material sewn together- but damn it! She wants it so bad: The feeling that everything is perfect, if only for those few moments on the dance floor.

The dresses continue to dance in their seamless pattern and she feels like crying.

She wakes up and knows that if she doesn't find a dress soon, she's going to go insane.

She brings him with her the next time. He probably doesn't like dress shopping. He probably doesn't know what _finding the perfect dress _means to her but he looks through the aisles with an adorably helpless and meek expression anyway. She sees him scan the racks until the tiniest hint of fabric color catches his eyes and he reaches into the thicket of satin and sheer. She thinks his hand will get stuck in the pink and orange foliage.

He pulls out a bright purple dress (lilac dream is the name of its color) and asks her if she likes it. She knows she would have never picked that one, in fact, she purposely pushed that one into the back of the rack one day so she wouldn't have to look at it while browsing for another dress.

It's just not _her_ kind of dress but she tries it on anyway.

Unzip, step in, squeeze in the tummy, pull up and hope it fits well. It _has_ to fit well. It's her wedding dress after all.

She looks like a giant purple marshmallow cloud in front of the mirror. The style hides the parts of herself that she usually shows, but she kind of likes the subtle change.

He comes up from behind her, wraps his arms around her, and waits for an answer.

"It's perfect, Jonouchi." Maybe it isn't perfect. Maybe it isn't even remotely beautiful and maybe she doesn't fall in love easily but the fact that he's behind her makes the dress a little more likeable.

She doesn't fall in love easily but she knows one day she'll love this dress just like she loves him at this moment.

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I'd love it if you reviewed and told me what you liked or didn't like. Did you like the fluffyness or did you choke on it? 


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